


Things we can't say

by themysticalsong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [24]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three words.</p>
<p>All he had to do was to say those three words.</p>
<p>Instead, he had walked out on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things we can't say

 

 

 

 

'There's something I've been meaning to say-'

 

Matt shook his head and scratched out the words. They didn’t feel right. He balled the sheet, trying to think of words that would fit, and threw it in the general direction of the bin. After so many hours, he almost didn’t care if the screwed up balls of paper fell in the bin or not. The bin was already brimming with numerous such notes. Another one wouldn’t make any difference.

 

But then, would any of it make any difference? Alex probably wouldn’t even read any of the letters. And rightly so.

 

Three words.

 

All he had to do was to say those three words.

 

Instead, he had walked out on her.

 

He hadn’t really meant to. All he wanted was for her to know. He had only meant to storm out, return a few hours later when they have both sufficiently calmed down and probably talk it out. And he had. He had returned not 3 hours later, only to find the doors shut.

 

Alex had locked him out.

 

He had tried calling, but she never answered.

 

And now he was sitting in a small rundown motel, an almost completely used up letter pad and pen in his hand as he tried to find the perfect words to convey his emotions, letter after balled up letter.

 

Deciding to try again, he picked up his pen, hoping against hope that words would find him. For a creative writing major, that should be easy, right?

 

After hours of clicking his pen over a still blank paper, he threw aside the stationery. There was no easy way of saying what he wanted to say.

 

The screen of his phone blinked. In hopes of a text from Alex- maybe just a small ‘come back, darling’- he snatched the phone off the table.

 

Nothing. Just a stupid text from Harry.

 

On the television in front of him the familiar opening theme began playing, drawing his attention. Only moments later that flirtatious, all-knowing smirk was in front of his eyes.

 

He used to love that about her- how in a moment Alex would go from being her hippie self to River Song. Now, it only served to incense him further.

 

Why wasn’t she calling? Did his absence mean anything to her? Or had it always been nothing?

 

Every moment of watching her smile, smirk or wink on the screen only angered him. Within another moment, his decision was made for him.

 

Snatching whatever little he had on him when he came to the motel, Matt began to trace his steps back to where she was. His emotions were at a point where he no longer cared about the rain falling down in sheets and soaking through his clothes.

 

Once outside the familiar blue doors, he knocked like a mad man possessed. And possessed he was. She had ignored him for far too long. Not any more.

 

"Matt?"

 

His heart stopped the moment she opened the door. Every emotion he had felt in past 72 hours was apparent on her face, embedded in her very appearance. Her eyes wide, hair mussed up, she blinked at him quietly, dressed in his shirt.

 

Three words. All that he wanted. All that she wanted.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

Three days. 72 hours. Everything was beyond comprehension at this point. One thing he maintained his grip on, his mind latching on to the one emotion.

 

She gasped as he pushed her against the wall, his lips pressed against hers. This one time, he dominated, and she let him, their tongues twining, untwining against each other, sliding against each other in a rough manner. A vicious push and pull as he drew her lower lip between his teeth, worrying at it.

 

He pushed back, grinding against her- roughly; almost feral in his need to possess her. Her hands came up to his shoulders, her fingers rising up and tangling in whatever hair he had managed to grow back.

 

She didn’t even protest when he pushed her hands away, holding them above her head. Only a gasp as he roughly touched her over the fabric covering her sex, his lips still pressed against hers in a  bruising kiss.

 

If nothing, he felt the moment she pushed her hips into his palm, the moan in his ears almost obscene.

 

"I missed you, darling."

 

He roughly shoved the fabric to the side, his fingers pressing inside her, the molten heat of her sex clutching at his digits as he moved them in and out. Almost hypnotic, and it helped him drown her desperate cries. The shiver that passed through her spoke in unknown languages to him.

 

"God, I love you so much, darling."

 

Words. But not what he wanted to hear. Or say.

 

She whimpered as he added another finger, curling them inside her, his thumb teasing circles over her clit. Using his free hand, he ripped the shirt off her. His favourite, but in that moment, nothing mattered.

 

The sound of the scattering buttons wasn’t enough; he once again captured her lips in a rough, demanding kiss. A kiss that only demanded submission.

 

No words. Only a muffled moan as she tightened over his fingers.

 

Without giving her the satisfaction of a release, he withdrew his fingers. In a swift motion, he pushed down his trousers and underpants.

 

The loud gasp that escaped her as he pushed into her in one single thrust felt like a noise. Clamping his hand over her lips, Matt picked a hard, fast rhythm. Words were unnecessary. They would only break him.

 

And to some extent he feared what she might say.

 

Too young, too naive. Too old, too much baggage. A small issue. Three words. And they were on the verge of breaking apart.

 

Her nails dug in his palm, her legs tightening around his waist- a telltale sign. She shuddered in his arms, her head thrown back and let out a piercing scream, only slightly muffled by his palm. Matt picked up his pace, both his palms now braced against the floor- when had they slid to the floor?- as he moved. 

Alex continued to say something- a barely coherent litany of ‘sorry’, ‘missed you’ and ‘I love you, darling’- every word punctuated by kisses. A few tears escaped her eyes, and he kissed them away.

 

"Hush, darling. It’s alright. I’m never again pushing you away. Never."

 

She wiped away the tears that he hadn’t been even aware of from his cheek, her other hand stroking whatever patch of skin it could reach.

 

He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his thrusts turning sharp and jerky as he neared his own orgasm. She once again began apologising, but he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips. They were both to blame. Equally.

 

Three days over a petty issue. Just a matter of three words. He could have admitted easily, if not for his pride. He had hurt her, and it wasn’t even something material to either of them.

 

He stilled after a few uneven thrusts, his body spasming with the force of his orgasm. Her hands brought him back to consciousness.

 

This time when he kissed her, he wordlessly tried to convey everything he had wanted to tell her. With his hands and tongue, he tried to soothe her.

 

Afterwards, as they lay between the sheets- he had carried her to bed- sweaty and curled up against each other, their hands constantly moving as if to assure themselves that neither was going anywhere, he admitted the truth to her- the three words that were the cause of all the pain they had suffered in the preceding three days-

 

"You were right."

 

 

 

 


End file.
